


Batman: Eternal Night

by Jack_White



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angry Bruce Wayne, Attempted scary imagery, Constructive Criticism Welcome, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, My First Fanfic, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 15:39:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20623451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jack_White/pseuds/Jack_White
Summary: Batman is a true creature of the night. A vampire. For now, he's a legend and a horror story to the criminal underworld at large. To those that have seen him though, he is a horrifying monster. The corrupt police are growing warry of this dark protector, and they've called in a special new recruit that's a supposed expert on the subject. Batman zeroes in on a handoff of an especially youthful package. The time for hiding is over. The psychopaths and madmen will have nowhere to make their deals, nowhere to hide, nowhere he cannot find them.





	1. On the Prowl

“The fuck’s a milliner?”

Frank dropped the beer cans on the table, letting them roll out of the bags as his friends shambled over for their vice. 

“That’s an old fashioned word for Hatter.” Replied Paul, snapping the beer open and ingesting a mouthful of the bitter ambrosia. He was none too conservative about the intake, anything to numb the guilt and forget the girl tied up in the cage across the room. “My guy called him a ‘Mental Millner.’ This guy might be a genius but does he have to be such an uppity prick about it?” 

The warehouse was cold and mostly empty. It once was a classic meeting place for criminals and scumbags but as Gotham rotted the need for subtlety waned. The rats were also constantly an annoyance. Their aggressive methods had ended with spilled drugs, eaten bills, and even a few small scale plagues. It was perfect for dropping off packages to psychopaths though.

“She’s gonna be out, right?” Richard asked as he fumbled closer, the smell of chips protruding from his hands with flakes of the snacks smeared on his rifle’s handle. “I’ve had some childhood shit alright? My psychiatrist says that things can trigger me if they remind me of that. Screaming little girl seems right up that alley.” 

With a belch and a lazy wiping of a booze stained mouth, Frank drew his handgun and place it on the table. 

“You’re not pussin’ out on me. I told you exactly what we were doing and twenty grand says you can suck it up and cry to your shrink about it when we’re done!”

“If that’s a threat you’d better be able to back up before I decide my cut should get bigger!” Spat Richard, his eyes like that of a cornered animal as he gripped his gun harder. 

The fight was immediately halted as the corpse of a rat dropped onto the table, perfectly in the center. It was shriveled up and seemed almost deflated. Closer inspection revealed no visible wounds besides two bite marks along the body. When they had just enough time to look over the body, the lights went out.

“Oh my God, it’s him!” Paul whispered quietly, grabbing his shotgun and pressing a hand to the small Bible in his back pocket as if that would protect him.

“Who the fuck do you mean?” Demanded Frank as he grabbed a flashlight after fumbling around on the table. With a ray of light, he illuminated a tall black monster before him. It loomed over him like a shadow even as it crouched down, mouth open and full of sharp and protruding teeth, with two exceptionally large ones that appeared to be fangs. Its gums arched forward to allow the teeth to angle themselves outward in a horrific and unnatural manner. But even as the huge gaping mouth readied to sink into his face, Frank couldn’t help but be entranced by the eyes. A bottomless iris surrounded a blazing crimson pupil. Time slowed for Frank, horrific hypnosis trapping him in a staring contest with the demon as it slowly inched closer. Behind the teeth, he could see a long and spined tongue with a pointed tip that looked sharp enough to pierce throats. 

The creature pounced on Frank, who after what had felt like an eternity, was allowed to scream. To the other men, not stricken by the horrible gaze, the creature had instantly tackled Frank to the ground. They opened fire but Paul merely pelted the table with a shotgun blast while the wild hail of bullets from Richard hit nothing but the all-encompassing darkness. 

With a shrill howl that battered the eardrums of the men, the creature swiftly disappeared into the darkness, dragging his pray behind him. Paul scrambled to grab the flashlight, awkwardly holding it in one hand and the shotgun in the other.

“What the fuck was that?” Whispered Richard as his breathing became erratic and uncontrollable. “What in God’s name was that?” 

“It’s the Batman,” Paul responded, “the vigilante freak who stalks the night. I heard he tore off some of Falcone’s guys’ hearts and ate them. We’ve gotta get out of here!” Paul placed the flashlight down as he rummaged around in his duffle bag for tape. 

“So he’s a demon or something right?” Richard asked, nearing hyperventilation and needing to reduce the stress. 

“He’s not human that’s for sure.” Paul finally found the tape and stood up to strap his flashlight to his shotgun only to find a rifle pointed at his face. 

“So if I kill you for him… He’ll let me live to tell the story.” 

“What? No! That’s insane!” There was no way Paul could aim the shotgun and fire before Richard could kill him. “Let’s just talk about this. We can make it out of this alive! All we need is one good shot-”

“Yeah, cause bullets work on a mother fucking demon!” 

Paul slowly put the shotgun down and moved his hands to his head. 

“Come on Richie. We’re pals, aren’t we? I’m sure you’ll-”

He was caught off as the gun suddenly went off. It took him a moment to comprehend what just happened. Batman had grabbed the gun by the barrel, forcing it down and causing the bullets to fire into the ground. By the time Paul had grabbed his weapon, both his partner and savior were gone.

After a moment of silence, Paul slowly placed the gun on the table. He gently picked up the flashlight.

“Batman.” He called out into the darkness. “I’ll leave you the girl, I swear I’ll never break the law again. Just please don’t kill me.” He opened up the Bible and flipped through the pages, looking for a specific verse he had memorized a lifetime ago. 

“‘Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord.”’ He bowed his head low, placing the Bible on the table and folding his hands tightly as he began to pray. 

Slowly, a deathly cold washed over him as a voice whispered into his ear. “Listen.” 

For an eternity Paul sat in silence as Batman loomed over him from behind like a plague waiting to squeeze the life out of a child. 

“I hear no God coming to forgive you or save you.” His voice was low and deep with a gravelly undertone. Paul felt a clawed and gloved hand that slowly caressed his throat. “I’ll ask you this once, who hired you? Who were you bringing the girl to?”

Paul could feel his heart rate skyrocket as he tried to think of an answer that would save his life. 

“Sir, mister Batman.” His hands quivered as he held his chest over his heart. “I don’t know who this was for. The guy I got the job from was anonymous. He’s a real friggin enigma. Contacted me and told me what to do and even sent cash right to my account.” 

Paul immediately felt Batman’s hand grip around his throat. He effortlessly picked up the thug, turning him around and holding him high off the ground, slowly cutting off his airflow. 

“That’s not good enough!” He roared, his eyes seemingly glowing with a burning aura. As Paul looked into those damned eyes he could swear he heard the screams of men, women, and children. 

Batman drove Paul through the table, smashed it entirely and crushing beer cans with his body. 

“I want answers!” Batman seemed to grow taller, his cape growing like a shadow and eventually rising up as it morphed into two massive bat-like wings. 

“We did this for a milliner! That’s all my boss said.” For a moment this stopped Batman’s terrible rage. “That’s all my guy said. ‘Mental Milliner.’ A milliner is a guy who makes hats if ya didn’t know. Please for the love of Christ just let me-” Batman stepped down hard on Paul’s hand, cracking it with his boot. 

“You’re going to turn yourself in to the police and tell them everything you know.” He demanded. “Or this will be the least painful thing I do to you.” And with that, he lifted his boot and stomped down on his hand, savoring the melody of painful screams and the satisfying crunch.

  
  


Arnold Flass gently sturred his warm hot chocolate as he sat back in the interrogation chair, trying his hardest not to burst out laughing. Usually, whenever he’d need a confession all he’d have to do was give them a little percussive negotiation. The room was empty and for all Flass knew, no one was on the other side of the glass. It just made things simpler in case he needed to rough up a suspect. No one sees it so it never happened. 

“So you say this demon-” Flass started as he sipped his treat. 

“Batman,” Paul added, his eyes wide and his nonbroken hand tapping the table nervously. “The demon was Batman. He made me come here. He killed my friends.” 

“Richard Garr and Frank Kimmel?” Flass added, highly amused but doing his best to stay professional. “You’re positive he killed them?”

“I mean, I’m pretty sure he did. He just left me to tell the story like monsters do ya know?” 

“No, I don’t know of criminals leaving people to babble about their stories. Especially not leaving every single one of them alive.”

Paul looked confused but soon he started to put the pieces together. Watching this poor broken man’s gears turning was too much for Flass who chuckled openly, even if he tried to cut it off by taking another sip. 

“Your friends are alive Paully. Those guys all thought he left them to be the squealer. Gotta admit that’s pretty funny.” He set the drink down. “So about the girl. Look, I don’t care enough to do the paperwork on this. You seem like a decent guy so how about you tell me about this internet geek who keeps giving you jobs and maybe I make this whole kidnapping thing go away?” 

Before Paul could properly mull over his decision, the door swung open and another detective walked in. This one seemed older, not so much in age but experience. His eyes seemed ancient yet sharp, like a returning veteran. Unlike Flass, there was nothing jovial about his demeanor. 

“Hey, Jimmy!” Flass called out. “This is James Gordon, new guy around the precinct.” Flass noticed the dangling silver cross around Gordon’s neck, another weakness in his eyes. “Hey Jimmy, this guy’s a born again lunatic too!” As James drew closer, Flass punched him not so softly in his arm, right where his forearm and upper arm met. 

Gordon easily ignored the insult and the pain, instead, staring down at the scumbag. He needed an answer before Flass tainted the evidence. 

“The teeth, what did they look like?” Gordon interrogated his words stern and to the point. 

“Oh like you’re gonna catch this guy on his dental records.” Flass prodded. “Just let me handle this and you-”

“Shut up.” He snapped. “The teeth. Now” 

Paul gulped as he remembered the horrible visage of the demon. 

“They were fucking huge okay? That thing wasn’t human. It had two especially long ones, kinda like a snake’s fangs, I guess. It was so awful you wouldn’t even-” By the time the word “fangs” left his mouth, Gordon was already leaving. He had all he needed to know. The stories all matched up and his special reassignment all made sense now.

“Vampire.” Jim muttered under his breath. 

  
  
  



	2. First blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gordon's work on a case of missing girls isn't progressing as fast as Gotham's dark protector would like. Together, they work out their differences in the only civilized manner possible in this city of the damned. Violence.

James Gordon slowly and methodically inhaled the smoke from his cigarette. Cheap and terrible tasting, Gordon had almost hoped the low-quality tobacco and awful flavoring would help him kick the habit. No such luck with all the stress he was constantly under. Chicago has some of the worst corruption in the police he’d ever seen and some of the worst “special cases” he’d ever had to deal with. Those days seemed like a vacation in comparison to this. 

The cancer was spread so deep it was hard to tell if the department was ever used to protect the people. Cops killing surrendering men, the commissioner’s tax on crime, Flass’ numerous complaints against him for racially motivated violence, this new vampire, Gotham had to be the lowest circle of hell.

Still, he couldn’t go home and sleep. Too much weighed on him with the “Alice” case. He looked over the pictures of all the known victims spread over his office desk and pinned up on the wall. His stomach churned at the very idea of what could be happening to them. They all shared physical similarities. Young women, ages 16 to 12, blonde and blue-eyed, white, all under 5’3, and all with names beginning with “A”. For a while, they all shared the name “Alice”, but as soon as a trap went south, the criminal became much less picky. Now anyone with a name even remotely close to Alice was a potential target. 

Sixteen women over two months. He went through them fast if he was killing them, and Gordon could feel in his gut that they were dead. The thought that they weren’t though was almost worse.

Three men came in today and all three confessed to taking a girl, that matched the entire profile, to be sold. The girl was Alison Marionette, and a call just a few minutes ago confirmed that she was returned safely home. It had to be him, the vampire, the Batman. 

Gordon finally crushed the cigarette in his ashtray as he began to contemplate a choice he’d never thought he’d have to make. Should he work with this vampire to solve the case? As if by providence, Gordon’s phone buzzed. He checked the screen to see that his daughter had sent him an article titled “Top ten reasons the Batman is good for Gotham. Number six will blow you away.” Gordon typed out a snide remark but quickly deleted it. 

“Interesting.” He typed back before shutting the phone off, not once looking at the article. Gordon sat back and looked over the suspect files. 

Charles Verndennand, a wealthy aristocrat who has had multiple sexual assault charges leveled against him and many statutory rape cases that he narrowly dodged. Sure his public opinion was incredibly low, but that didn’t stop him from running as city finance manager unopposed for two terms. Perhaps this was a new fetish? It was a thin connection though given his other victims were all of different races other than white. It also didn’t explain the massive amount of girls taken so quickly. Charles usually had a few favorites, not a mass kidnapping spree. 

Given that the three men caught today were offered money for one of these girls, perhaps this was a human trafficking ring. The selling of slaves was not a crime too low for Gotham’s underbelly, but the Falcones seemed to distaste the crime and wouldn’t do business with those that dealt in the trade. Such a tariff choked out the higher ranking bosses and the regular kidnappers were never so picky as to target such a specific group. They also tended to be cowardly while this criminal was brazen. Many girls were taken in broad daylight. 

There was only one other pseudo suspect and he was the greatest leap of logic of them all. Jervis Tetch, a once well-renowned neurologist who admitted himself into Arkham Asylum for some delusions surrounding the story of Alice in Wonderland, the idea of his fixation on the Alice girl made sense but everything else was off. He was released and declared legally sane. His file put him at 4 feet tall, hardly a kidnapper physique and it’s not like he had a lot of money to get people to kidnap for him. From what Gordon knew, Doctor Strange was one of the best psychiatrists Arkham had to offer. Still, even with all the evidence against him, James found himself revolted by the weasel. Perhaps it was the large head, the two large front teeth, or both these in proportion to the rest of his size. Perhaps he was worth looking into if only just to sate his curiosity. 

Gordon checked his watch. 1 AM. He should really get some sleep but he knows that he has to make some progress on this damn case. 

A familiar coldness based on decades of experience and countless close calls radiated from behind him. He whirled around, revolver in hand, only to find himself stared down by a huge vampire. He was certainly tall, at least 6’3 or possibly taller but Gordon couldn’t tell if that was real or part of the vampire’s power. Those eyes, he had felt the power of other vampires before. Their compelling stare was something he had worked hard against, yet this one certainly took him by surprise. 

“Be still Detective Gordon,” Batman demanded. From the reports, Gordon had almost expected someone more monstrous. This Batman had an almost entirely human-looking face and build with a strong jawline and a mask covering half of a deathly pale face. His eyes seemed white due to the mask and his cape draped across the ground. Gordon tried to move but he was entirely paralyzed. Sloppy, he should have been ready for this. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’ve just started on the missing girls' case. I’ve been preoccupied with doing the rest of your department's job.” Gordon felt a pang of sickening guilt wallow up in his stomach. Was Batman doing more for Gotham than this whole GCPD? Batman glided past Gordon, looking over what he had. He paused as he looked over Jervis’ file. 

Gordon closed his eyes and imagined his entire body go limp. First, he needed to remain perfectly calm. No amount of lashing out or wild struggling would free him from these bonds. The core tenants of what a vampire was returned to him. Vampires were cowards ruled by the fear of death. Vampires were monsters ruled by their hunger and fury. And most importantly, vampires were damned, all ruled under God no matter how they struggled against the light. 

With Batman distracted, the seasoned hunter was easily able to clear his mind before drifting past the grasp of the creature's mental grip. The trick was to patiently escape and then snap back into action. A vampire’s mental power was a two-way street. If he snapped back to reality it would be like slamming a door on the vampire’s invasive claw. 

The shattering of Batman’s control over the detective sent mental shards into the vampire’s brain, causing him to be stunned for a meer few seconds. It was long enough for Gordon to turn around and fire into the monster’s back four times. He started low, shooting at the base of his spine, and moving up to the back of his shoulder to spread the pain around. If he had his silver bullets the job would be done, but Jim foolishly assumed he wouldn’t be fighting a vampire on his second week of work in Gotham. 

A guttural growl bellowed from Batman’s lower throat as he turned around, his eyes turning a shade of fierce red and his gloved hands seemingly morphing longer claws. 

“I don’t want to-” Batman started until Gordon shot him directly into the heart. The bullet didn’t piece far into his flesh but the impact was powerful enough to considerably rupture his most vital organ. His fangs grew to be more prominent and Gordon could see his tongue slide over his teeth. 

With inhuman speed Batman lunged forward, his teeth showing in a bestial snarl but without a gaping maw to go for a bite attack. As soon as Batman was close enough to strike, Gordon fired from the hip into Batman’s gut. Another stunning and organ bruising blow, giving Jim enough time to draw his silver dagger from his side and drop his empty gun. 

Gordon thrust down with his knife down, hoping to stab the disoriented vampire through the head and finishing this quickly. Even as he was recovering from the last painful shot, Batman still was able to grab Gordon’s forearm tightly and he began to squeeze. 

Gordon dropped the knife and caught with his other hand, only for Batman to pull him close before he could properly gut his target and headbutt James hard in the skull. It was like being thrown against a concrete block. While Gordon stumbled back, his vision blurred and his sense distorted.

Batman pulled Gordon closer, still holding on to his arm until he let go after firmly kicking Jim in the gut. With the wind knocked out of him and a bloodied forehead, Batman assumed he could escape and perhaps not have to brutally beat the only good cop in Gotham.

Through the mental fog and pain telling him to just stay down, Gordon was able to feel around for a weapon as he forced himself to stand. He finally settled on a chair that he threw at Batman while his head was turned. Without looking, Batman was able to swing around and punch and smash the chair before it could do any damage. What he wasn’t ready for though was the thrown knife. In an instinctive action, Batman blocked the blade with his arm to stop it from entering his heart. The silver blade met no resistance to the vampire’s impure skin and flesh. Every condemned nerve in his arm and upper shoulder erupted in a cataclysm of pain and anguish. 

With an inhuman hiss, Batman tore the blade from his arm and tossed it aside. Gordon could feel the anger and hunger in the vampire’s soul. It radiated from his eyes as he opened his mouth slowly, his teeth growing and sharpening to adapt to his newfound rage. He slowly moved closer, hunched down, his wounds mounting.

“Don’t push me, Gordon.” Batman spat, his eyes fixed on the detective’s throat. “I won’t kill you. But I can’t promise I won’t hurt you.” With that, he took another step forward only for the room to be fired upon from the outside. Batman lunged forward, grappling Jim and forcing him down so the bullets wouldn’t shred through him. The shots were coming through the office door and the wall surrounding it. Bullets scraped and tore flesh from Batman’s back as a few grazed his body but he remained steadfast as he shielded Gordon.

“You alive in there Gordon?” Flass asked from outside. “If you are you better speak up, Branden’s reloading!” 

Batman rose slowly, holding his chest and breathing heavily. With a glance down he could see that his tackle had caused Gordon to hit his head and at least temporarily conk him out. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. Finally, he let out a horrible, high pitched screech that reverberated throughout the entire police station. Glass trembled, ears were nearly ruptured, and the signal was sent. 

Flass clasped over his ears and groaned in pain while Branden, with shaky hands, tried his best to reload the rifle despite the pain. Before either could counter-attack, Batman kicked down the door and punched Branden hard in the head. Blood rage continued to sizzle and burn in the vampire’s heart. All he could think about for a moment was all the reports of civilians caught in the crossfire of Branden’s SWAT team. Batman’s left hand wrapped around Branden’s skull as he continued to pummel the officer until he stopped moving, which didn’t take very long. 

Officers surrounded Batman and drew their handguns on him, only holding their fire while Batman held the senior officer. 

“There’s nowhere to run freak!” Flass assured, revolver aimed at Batman’s head, but his hand shook as he looked into his cursed eyes. “Drop him and you might just walk out of here in cuffs instead of on a stretcher!” There wasn’t a chance in hell they were going to let him live. No one assaults an officer in Gotham, especially not the guilty ones. 

“Drop your weapons.” He responded, his voice low and his eyes seemingly staring at each officer at once. “You’re outnumbered.” 

Suddenly, the outside windows shattered and a swarm of black bats poured into the station, screeching as they flew to their dark master. Like a terrible plague, they washed over the officers, gnawing at their skin and scratching at their eyes. Flass tried to get a good look at Batman as he frantically waved his arms around to beat back the winged monsters. Batman was engulfed in the bats, swarming all around him until they finally took over. 

Branden dropped to the floor, bloodied and unconscious and as the bats retreated into the night along with Batman, appearing to have disappeared with them. 

Gordon, in a concussive haze, stumbled out of his office, handgun in hand and murder in his eyes. 

“Flass, gather whatever men you can,” Gordon demanded as he looked down on Branden, a modicum of satisfaction flowering before it was withered by his colossal headache. “Batman is going for one of the suspects on the Alice case. We have to stop him from contaminating the evidence or tipping off the suspects.” 

Flass wiped blood off the side of his head where he was bit, his face turning red with rage and embarrassment. 

“That thing just disappeared in a goddamn sea of bats so if you want to run after him be my fucking guest!”

“Stop your whining and call Charles Verndennand. I assume you know his number. I’m heading to Tetch’s last known address, send as much backup as you can muster.” 

Gordon rushed over to his car, moving through officers and fighting through the immense pain radiating through his body. When he arrived at his squad car, he popped the trunk open to make sure he still had his armaments. He slowly removed his large hand ax from its hidden compartment. He gently thumbed the holy silvered ax head, marked with the holy cross on one side and the monogram of Saint Mary on the other. Crosses, wooden stakes, heads of garlic, holy water, silver bullets, all manner of specialized vampire-killing tools were packed for his usage.

Tonight, Gordon would slay the Batman.


	3. Tea time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a less than ideal run-in with James Gordon, Batman is hot on the trail of the only major lead on the Alice kidnapping case. With the police hot on his trail, his vampiric hunger growing evermore excruciating, and a badly wounded arm, Batman is less than prepared for the horrors he's about to face. Tick. Tock.

With the call answered, the fluttering swarm of bats that had congregated around their fiendish kin began to separate and fly off to their perches and hollows. One bat, in particular, flew past the police parking lot and to a nearby rooftop. One of its wings was cut and it had difficulty flying but it eventually managed to land safely. 

The bat warped and grew as shadows enveloped the creature. Wings morphed into arms, a snout squeezed into a masked nose, and ears thinned and sharpened into points on a cowl. In mere seconds Batman returned to his humanoid form, his wounds still severe and his hunger eroding his will. 

Thoughts of murder multiplied like cancer. The throats of all those corrupt cops seemed impossibly tantalizing. They deserved to die with how they raped Gotham when she needed them most. No one would care if he cleaned through the entire department, drinking them without remorse or hesitation. It’d satisfy him more than anything else and could heal his injuries. 

No. The rule was immovable. No killing of human beings, that was the only way to remain in control and, at least on some level, human.

Batman pressed a button on the side of his cowl to bring up the heads up display. He looked down on the street and digitally placed a waypoint. Dizziness and dull drowsiness knitted themselves into his bones and brain. The knife wound still burned badly and the bleeding hadn’t completely stopped either. Once the distinct and familiar sound of a particularly powerful engine could be heard in the distance, Batman dropped down off the building and straight towards the waypoint. 

A mighty engine roar pierced the sky as a long black car whirled around the corner and drove right under Batman. The roof opened up for him and Batman landed harmlessly into the car and with no one to see Batman allowed himself a momentary smirk. 

The car aptly named the Batmobile was full of buttons, gadgets, and weapons for any scenario just begging to be used. With a press of one of these buttons, a holographic screen with his butler’s face lit up.

“Ah, master Bruce.” Greeted Alfred with an even tone. “I trust your meeting with the Commissioner went well. You did talk to him instead of using your little mind trick right?” Bruce removed his cowl as he opened the glove box to take out a preserved and ice-cold package of human blood. Warmer blood would’ve tasted better, but such indulgences had lead to some close calls in the field. 

“I was in a hurry and I couldn’t have trusted him not to shoot me.” He responded coldly, sinking his fangs into the packet and drinking the entire meal in a matter of seconds. Preserved blood would never be as good as a live meal, but this had to be enough. Already his flesh began to knit itself back together. The bullets lodged into his flesh were pushed out and most of the scrapes began to fade. The knife wound would take much longer though. While the blood had dulled the pain, a silvered strike was far more serious. 

“Oh. Well, I assume you got what you came for then.” Alfred chimed in, perhaps hoping to bring some levity to the encounter. Batman began to wrap a specialized black bandage around his arm to slow the bleeding. It seamlessly matched the costume’s near pitch-black design. The myth that he was invincible needed to be preserved and it hid a potential weak spot. 

“I did after he shot me six times.” 

“So maybe a more diplomatic approach would have been preferable?” 

Bruce didn’t respond because he knew Alfred was right. He quickly punched the last known address of Jervis Tetch into the Batmobile’s navigation computer and turned on the auto-drive so perhaps he could rest before he had another fight. 

“Sir,” Alfred continued, “perhaps you should consider turning in for the night? You seem wounded and if the police officer managed to wound you so badly you should allow yourself time to recover.” 

“No. The police will know where I’m going and knowing the GCPD, they’ll muck up the investigation and let Tetch escape.”

“Are you positive he’s the culprit? I’m reading his file and he was given a clean bill of health from Professor Hugo Strange.” 

“I’m not. That’s why I need to see him before the GCPD pin this on an innocent man or let a serial kidnapper go free.” 

“Be careful though sir. I know you’re not much for public opinion but where you’re headed isn’t your usual rooftops. Do try not to aggravate the people you’re trying to protect.” 

Bruce’s hands clenched into fists because he knew exactly what Alfred was referring to. The few times he had interacted with normal people had always ended with them telling stories of a demon, a monster that ate children and came to oppose the second coming of Christ. 

“I’ll be discrete.” 

With that, he hung up the call and turned off the autopilot. Driving the Batmobile was one of the few simple pleasures he could enjoy that didn’t involve violence. While in his own body there was a constant battle against hunger and anger, with the car he felt a sense of total control. Every quirk he knew, every inch of the vehicle, her top speeds, the way she could stop on a dime, all the chimes and sounds for any readings scannings and calls, in a way she was like his therapist. A man obsessing over his car was immature, silly, and oh so human. It reminded him of what it was like to be alive.

Batman pulled into a dark parking lot with no other cars parked inside. Batman put the cowl back on and sighed.

“No more accidents.”

He hopped out of the car and pulled up his gauntlet’s hacking device with a holographic menu and quickly disabled the dim lamps that barely illuminated the parking lot. With that, he slid the holographic “screen” aside to access the Batmobile’s control mode and switch it to stealth mode. With no lights on and the entire exterior being pure black, it was almost impossible to see without being close enough to touch it. 

Across the street was a housing section where Tetch was living. Houses looked like they were rotting from the inside out. The paint was chipped across most of the homes, many had their windows smashed in, and none were safe from graffiti of the local gangs that controlled this region. From the looks of things though, this place was mostly passed over by the major crime families. 

While Batman focused on major crime lords like Falcone and Oswald Cobblepot, these were the people that were hit the hardest. Drugs, gun running, human trafficking, all vices could pass through places like this, and Bruce could hardly blame the civilians for not resisting. Call the police and you’ll be put on a watch list or beaten, stand up to the people in charge and you’ll find a bullet in your spouse’s head, try to break the story and they’ll live stream the removal of your teeth. 

The few people out of their homes at night seemed to be keeping to the shadows as best they could to avoid either revealing their crimes or becoming just another statistic. Through all the skulking scumbags, a single figure stood out to him. Under a streetlamp sat a crying little girl holding on to her small stuffed monkey toy. She couldn’t be older than five. 

Batman raced towards the little girl, moving silently like a cat watching over his young. When the little girl wiped her eyes she found herself looking up at a menacing figure dressed like a bat. She almost screamed, but she found herself paralyzed. 

Slowly, Batman crouched down to be on her level and he slowly removed his mask. There she was met with a kind face. The child’s mind was easily malleable, allowing Bruce to shift her perception with his vampiric power just enough she wouldn’t be able to point him out as Bruce Wayne. His natural blue eyes became warm hazel, his black hair softened to a dirty blond, and his skin color morphed to be more humanlike instead of a deathly pale.

“Are you a monster?” She asked, clutching her toy tightly. “Because if so my big brother will beat you up!” 

Bruce resisted the urge to smile at the girl’s courage.

“I’m Batman.” He said in a low but slightly overstated tone, perhaps just a little corny. “I’m here to take you back to your family.” She sniffled and wiped her eyes with the monkey’s hand. 

“How do I know you’re not a stranger? Mommy says they’re not good to talk to.” 

“Oh I won’t be taking you anywhere, I’ll just follow you to make sure no strangers come around okay? You tell me when you’ve found your house.” He slipped the cowl back on and moved behind the little girl, offering his hand to help her up. She took it but she didn’t hold on to it as she walked forward. 

“My mommy says you gobble up girls who don’t brush their teeth.” She said once she started to remember some of the houses.

“Do you believe that?”

“No. I’ve forgotten to brush my teeth before and you never came… Hey, wait a minute. Are you just doing this so you know where my house is? You’re gonna make sure I remember to brush my teeth forever aren’t you?” 

“No… But you should brush just to be safe.” She giggled a little and her face lit up as she saw her mother across the street. 

“Mommy!” She cried as she ran over to her, with her arms wide open. Her mother scooped up her little angel and held her tightly to her chest.

“Never wander off like that again!” She demanded, tears running down her face. Her fierce hold of her child was one of primal and well-placed fear. The night was full of predators, and only one of them looking out for people like her. She looked up, wiping tears from her eyes. “Thank you.” People started to come out of their homes to see what the commotion was about. Crying in the street was common enough, but usually not in relief. 

“Hey, you’re that Batman guy aren’t you?” Asked one of the bystanders, a young adult with crutches. He didn’t get a response but the silence was answer enough. His watch was particularly ornate given the low income of most of the residents. “You don’t eat babies do you?”

“No.” 

“Nice.” 

People were starting to crowd a bit, but everyone gave Batman a wide berth once he started to move toward Tetch’s house. An awkward fog came over the residents as Batman approached the house. People seemed scared to progress closer past a certain point. Batman looked over his shoulder at the people watching him as police sirens wailed in the distance. 

“That guy’s not well Mister Batman.” One of the bystanders, father looking figure with a gut, offered. “If he’s up to something, kick his ass.” Batman received a couple of cheers from the crowd. He tried not to let it get to him, but the encouragement was nice instead of screams for once. 

“Hey don’t worry ‘bout the pigs.” Assured one of the younger men. “We’ll keep ‘em off your back.” 

Batman didn’t turn around as he opened the door but he appreciated the support. The stealth approach was obviously out of the question, Jervis had to have noticed the crowd.

The interior of the house was an eyesore with paints of green and purple draping the walls as if slathered on by a child. Pink polka dots seemed to be mathematically placed to make the least artistic sense. Dead flowers sat potted in various corners and edges, each with a crayon-colored paper face stapled to their flower heads. By far the most irritating decorations were the clocks. Some ornate, some simple, all a mix of greens either by design or painted over to be so. They ticked loudly and out of synch, the sounds already plucking at his nerves. There was never less than four in view and looking around would always reveal at least three more.

“Oh Batman, you’re late!” Called out a sickeningly cheerful and slightly shrill voice from the living room. “So cruel of you to make me wait.” Batman closed his eyes and started to listen to hear for heartbeats but his perception seemed to be dulled somehow. 

If there was any hope for Jervis to be eccentric rather than a madman, it was completely evaporated when Batman turned the corner to find a large table with an actual rabbit in one of the seats. Strewn across the table were cups of hot tea, pastries, half-eaten bread goods, and a rat crawling through the mess. 

At the end of the table sat a tiny man, no more than four feet tall, with a simply enormous top hat on his head. His clothes resembled that of the famous Mad Hatter character from Alice in Wonderland apart from the grime and missing buttons on his vest. Proportionally, his head was extremely large compared to the rest of his body, an unfortunate medical condition by the looks of it. His eyes were a sickly green that seemed to hold a thousand and one secrets and the answers to none of them.

“Oh, you’re quite late you see. Never fear, we have more tea.” Jervis’ voice was equal parts whimsically deluded and enthrallingly captivating. Here was a place of madness where insanity and genius melded into tools of control. Everything pointed to him being the culprit, but Batman couldn’t strike yet without knowing if the other girls were in danger or not. 

“I can’t be late if it’s always tea-time,” Batman responded, circling the table and slowly moving closer. 

“Oh wonderful, a man of the mad! Come hither my knight in darkness clad.”

Batman slowly moved around the table, keeping his hands both visible and open to keep the madman calm. Already he could feel tension running up and down as his hands yearned to collapse around the tiny fiend’s throat. There was little doubt that Tetch was the kidnapper, but he couldn’t have done this alone. 

“Is the party for just the three?” Batman asked as he pulled one of the chairs back. 

“Of course not, silly me! Here’s Tweedledum, and Tweedledee!” With a click, the front door was locked and two mountains of flesh lumbered into the room. 

Their faces were ovular with bald heads that came to a rounded point at the top and swollen rolls of fat down their chins and cheeks that made their necks almost invisible. Their bellies bulged forward yet their red overalls seemed to stretch around them perfectly fine. They couldn’t weigh anything less than four hundred pounds but their bare arms were grotesquely muscular with massive elbows mixed with unnaturally large forearm muscles. Each one had a series of surgical scars around their heads near the tops of their skulls. 

“Dum is the one with blood on his tie.” Jervis elaborated. “Dee is the one with no left eye.” The gremlin laughed as he thought of the surgical mistake that required the eye’s removal. A jovial sense of energy filled his cheeks as he recalled the injury’s story: 

“I must confess my knife had slipped   
into his socket as I sipped  
a spot of tea my tongue dipped  
I apologized for the flesh gone ri-”

The weasel's words grew too much to bear, so Batman replaced them with the sounds of choked screams as his hand fastened itself to his throat. The monsters lumbered closer, moaning incoherently at their master’s suffering. 

“You were going to pick up another girl tonight weren’t you?” Batman demanded, lifting Jervis by his throat and continuing to squeeze. “Where are the other girls? What did you do to them?” 

Before the two broken men could fall upon Batman, he pulled Jervis forward holding him against his chest and facing them. His other hand’s fingers morphed into claws and he gently ran them across Jervis’ soft and smooth face leaving a light trail that faded moments after it was made.

“Stay back you blathering idiots! Are you blind or just oblivious?” Squealed the Hatter, trying to squirm out of the grip with no hope of success. “Your questions will be answered just one at a time! Be reasonable or the answers will stay mine.” 

Batman grabbed hold of Jervis’ ankle before releasing his throat, swinging the imp around and dangling him upside down in front of Batman’s face. Jervis’ hat dropped to the ground, causing a look of pain and distress as it landed at the vampire’s feet. 

“The girl, Alison Marionette, you hired men to kidnap her. I want to know why and where the other girls you captured are!” It would be so easy to rip open the bastard’s chest and drink his heart like a plump grapefruit. Of all the putrid scum in Gotham, the ones that hurt children deserved death the most. 

“No no no there is no ‘son’! There’s only my Alice, and she’s the one.” 

“If you won't talk,” Batman began to glare directly into the wretch's eyes, using his other hand to grab his hair and keep him steady. “Then I’ll rip the answers from your mind!” Batman’s eyes began to glow blood red as he peered into the soul of the maggot for answers. Visions of the madman’s past began to flow into Batman’s consciousness. 

The warmth of a luxurious herbal tea ran down his throat as the image of a smiling young girl in a white and blue dress appeared before him. The world around Batman fell away as he forced himself into the memory. He was sitting down at the table, the girl dressed like Alice was passing him a slice of apple pie. 

“Why thank you so much Alice dear.” Hatter started. Batman could feel his hands twiddling together nervously and the feeling of impending doom tingled at the back of his spine. “But this is the end of our time I fear.” 

“Whatever do you mean?” Alice asked with an innocent smile. “I’m having so much fun after your therapy Mister Hatter, though I admit the needles were painful. I’ve honestly been hurting a lot lately. Perhaps I should see a doctor or…” She trailed off as blood slowly ran from her face and mouth. She grabbed her heart and start to cough. The table was soon a mess of red fluids and she started to scream, only for her cries to be muffled by the sound of her choking on her blood. Finally, she dropped down on the table, a red pool quickly forming as the contents of her mouth began to overflow from her mouth.

“I love our time together oh yes I do.” Jervis sniffled as he stood and reached for a handkerchief. “But the pain never lessens each time I lose you…” 

Batman returned to reality as he severed the bond between their minds but something wasn’t right. The room seemed more green than before and the table less tattered. The food was also disturbingly appetizing despite such desires being only a faded memory since his embrace into undeath. The room began to spin and twist, causing Batman to release Jervis as he tried to stable himself on the wall. 

“What did you do to me?” Batman demanded, his fangs growing as his rage burned hotter and hotter. 

“Now Batman you got a good walk inside my head,” Hatter replied, a mischevious grin growing on his face. “It’s only cordial that I should have a similar tread. I felt your hunger, I felt your pain. You’re just like me, alone, and insane.” 

Before Batman could stumble forward to grab the Hatter, he felt a tremendous force against his chest as he went flying back. Tweedledum had punched him with such inhuman strength that Batman was hit through a door and into the kitchen. 

Batman began to stand slowly, only to find himself surrounded by a makeshift laboratory. Dangerous chemicals and coolers marked with the names of various organs were left along the floor and counters. The sink was littered with haphazardly cleaned surgical tools while rows of needles of various sizes were kept in the china cabinet. A stuffed cat was kept on the kitchen island with fur painted blue. Its mouth was forced into a crooked smile with human teeth surgically replacing the original teeth. 

The ticking of the clocks approached unbearable irritancy as they rang in his ear, biting the back of his brain and poisoning his synapses with hypnotic suggestions. 

“Don’t make me hurt you.” Batman threatened, his claws reaching their apex and his teeth all growing to razor-sharp points. 

“A scared little bat, belly empty and wings torn.” He moved behind his two henchmen that began to move in, dusting off and returning his hat to his head. “With a little tinkering, you will be reborn!” The Hatter reached into a vest pocket and took out an open pocket watch. “Tick tock, focus on the time. When I snap my fingers you will be mine!” 

Despite the symphony of hellish ticking all around, he could still hear the rhythm of the pocket watch. Seconds slowed to a crawl as his focus began all encompassed by the damned ticking. Rage and even hunger were replaced by the maddening sounds made from that singular tool. Nothing else mattered… just the clock. 

“Reality is as cruel and calloused as a father’s hand. Forget it all and join me in Wonderland!” The Mad Hatter snapped his fingers and Batman’s whole world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the long wait for this chapter to come out. The length was changed many times but hopefully, it'll have been worth the wait! 
> 
> I hope you're all having a spook filled October!


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